Cast in Ice Read online

  He wound his way through the crowded Blue Room, going from one table to the next, taking a special look at anyone who remotely matched her features.

  He knew the minute he found her. He didn’t move, but he didn’t have to. She lifted her gaze as if someone had whispered that he was there.

  Her gaze locked with his, then her eyes widened, and he knew the second she recognized him.

  Of course, she didn’t know who he was. The mask prevented that, but she recognized him from the night before, and realized the threat he presented if he sat down to play against her.

  The table where she sat was filled with players, and even though the man opposite her vacated his seat while Nick watched, he didn’t take the man’s place. He stood out of the way and observed. He didn’t want to distract her. He only wanted to make certain she could handle herself. She’d been visibly shaken when he left her earlier. But she appeared as if she’d recovered.

  She appeared as confident as she had the night before, and had once again assumed the role of the Ice Lady.

  The hands were dealt and the players placed their bets. Lady Winnifred won the first two hands easily. And the third.

  She lost the fourth, but the player sitting to her right was dealt a face card and an ace. There was no strategy that could have changed that outcome.

  That’s when Nick noticed a change in the lady’s motions. In her alertness. In her attentiveness.

  Her movements seemed to slow, as if there were weights attached to her arms, to her hands, to her fingers. She hesitated before placing her bets, something she hadn’t done even once last night when playing against him. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the cards in her hands as if she couldn’t quite focus on them. And she lost the hand.

  Then she lost the next.

  A voice inside his head screamed for her to throw down her cards and walk away. She obviously wasn’t as alert as she needed to be. Obviously, something was distracting her, and Nick was sure he knew what that was. No doubt it had something to do with the conversation they’d had earlier. Or the lateness of the hour. Or perhaps the number of late nights she’d put in trying to win the money she needed to pay for her mother’s keep.

  He studied her more closely. She looked like she was nearing exhaustion. As if she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Nick wanted to step next to her and suggest that she quit. He wanted to tell her to fold and go home. But he knew telling her what to do would only ensure that she did the opposite.

  He looked at the few chips in front of her. If she played the next hand and she had to match a raised bid, she’d lose more than she had. She’d be forced to get more money to cover her losses—if she had the money. Or she’d have to go to her father—which Nick knew she wouldn’t do. Then she’d be left with no choice but to go to the third floor and be part of the auction.

  She didn’t quit. She played the next hand and lost. Then she won a hand which added to her chips, but she lost the next two.

  The pile of chips in front of her dwindled to almost nothing, and Nick felt the first wave of alarm.

  ‘Quit!’ a voice yelled from inside him. But she didn’t.

  Like most gamers, she played as if the next hand she was dealt would be a winning hand. Except Nick knew it wouldn’t. She wasn’t playing smart. She’d already made several noticeable mistakes. Mistakes only a novice player would make.

  ‘Quit!’ the voice yelled again, and Nick had to restrain himself from stepping up to her and physically removing her from the table.

  His heart raced in his chest. Terror at the helplessness he felt consumed him. He was watching the lady sprint toward destruction and wasn’t able to stop her.

  Nick took a step toward her. He had to stop her before it was too late. He wouldn’t allow another innocent female to suffer that humiliation.

  But as he imagined himself reaching out to halt her from playing the next hand, she placed her cards down in the center of the table, indicating that she was done for the night. That she no longer wished to play.

  The relief he felt was indescribable. But as he watched her rise from her chair and walk away from him, the emotion raging inside him changed from relief to anger. Then to fury.

  Didn’t she realize how close she’d come to losing everything? Everything, including her virtue?

  She retreated from the room and he followed her. She’d almost had to forfeit everything she held dear. Just like his cousin’s friend Jenny had had to forfeit everything. And when she couldn’t live with the disgrace of what she’d done, she’d taken her own life.

  Jenny Belden’s bruised and broken body flashed before him. He’d been the one who’d gone to the docks to identify her. He’d been the one who’d had to tell Jenny’s parents that their daughter was dead. Because of what a night of reckless gaming had done. Because of what she’d had to do to pay her debts.

  Nick slapped his fist again his thigh. He’d never allow The Soiled Dove to take another innocent female’s life.

  The closer she got to the door, the angrier he became. The more he increased the length of his strides to reach her. He refused to allow her to get away from him. He refused to let her leave without making sure she knew exactly the risks she’d taken.

  She exited through the door at the front of the Blue Room, then stepped out into the alley. He exited behind her.

  Her carriage waited for her. Not a Townsend gilt-laden carriage, but an unmarked carriage. The driver hopped down and rushed to open the door.

  Nick followed so closely, he almost reached the carriage ahead of her.

  The driver had just handed his mistress inside when Nick stepped up to him. Nick recognized the driver as a man named Hodgekens, and he slipped his mask partially aside to reveal his identity to the man. “I’ll have a word with your mistress, Hodgekens,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. “I intend no harm.”

  Hodgekens stepped back and Nick climbed into the carriage, then turned back to the driver. “Take us away from here, Hodgekens,” he ordered, then shut the door behind him and slid into the seat opposite her.

  She squeaked a little cry of surprise, then reached for her reticule and worked to open it.

  Nick placed his hand over hers and felt the small pistol beneath his fingers. He pulled the reticule out of her grasp and threw it on the seat beside him. “You don’t need that.”

  “What do you want?” she asked, pressing her back against the rich velvet squabs.

  Nick took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. Trying to calm his fury before he spoke. “We need to talk,” he said as the carriage lurched forward.

  “Get out!”

  “Since the carriage is moving, that’s hardly possible. So you’re going to have to sit where you are and listen to me.” He leaned forward and glared at her. “What the bloody hell were you trying to do in there?”

  She didn’t answer, but glared at him. When she spoke, there was a different fear in her voice. “It’s you,” she said as if just realizing who he was. “You’re the man I played against last night.”

  “Yes, it’s me. And unlike last night, tonight you played like a bloody beginner.”

  “How dare you!”

  “I dare, my lady, because you know the first rule of The Soiled Dove. No unpaid debts. No vowels. No credit!”

  “I know that!”

  “Then answer me this. If you had continued to play, would you have had enough money to cover your losses?”

  Her hesitation was all the answer he needed. “I didn’t think so. What were you going to do then? Go to your father to ask for money to cover your gambling debts?”

  “I didn’t intend to lose tonight,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “No one does,” he fired back. “But The Soiled Dove doesn’t accept excuses. They don’t lose money from their tables. They always come out the winner.”

  “I know that. Tonight was different. I was—”

  “What? You were tired? You weren’t up t
o playing the hands you were dealt? You thought you’d win the next hand?”

  “I know when to quit!” she said in a voice that held a desperate tone. A voice that hinted that she was on the verge of breaking down.

  Nick knew he should stop badgering her, but he couldn’t. She’d scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she hadn’t walked away from that table tonight.

  “Except you almost didn’t quit, did you?”

  Her gaze lowered for a fraction of a second before she lifted it again and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I would or would not have done.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Nick answered. “I know everything about you. Including that you are desperate for funds. Funds you cannot go to your father to get, because you cannot tell him what you need them for.”

  Her reaction was that of a sail whose wind had been sucked from it.

  “You don’t know that,” she said, except her voice lacked the bravado it had earlier held. Her confidence waned.

  “But I do,” he repeated, then lifted his hand to his face and pulled off his mask. “I know everything about you, Lady Winnifred. And I know that you’ve gotten yourself in over your head.”

  Nick should have taken a great deal of satisfaction in the sharp intake of her breath. He should have felt a smug sense of elation at her reaction, but he didn’t. The fear he saw in her eyes erased any pleasure he might have felt.

  “You,” she said in a ragged whisper. Her hands reached out on either side of her and her fingers clutched at the velvet cushions. She was terrified and he’d put that terror in her eyes.

  Nick reached out and lifted the mask from her face. Dark curls came loose from their pins and fell in ringlets over her shoulders. Her lips parted in surprise and her lower lip trembled as if she couldn’t control it.

  “Yes, me, Lady Winnifred.”

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” she cried out. “I haven’t asked for your interference. I don’t want it.”

  “But you need it.” Nick leaned forward and placed his forearms on his knees. He was almost level with her. “Do you have any idea how the owners of The Dove can guarantee they will make a profit from their gaming tables. Do you?”

  Her silence was her answer.

  “The answer is because of what happens on the third level.”

  “There is a third level to The Dove?”

  “Yes, there is a third level. And it is on that level that they give their patrons the opportunity to pay their debts without having to go to their husbands, or their fathers, or brothers, or…wives to beg for the money to cover their debts.”

  She stared at him for several long seconds. He knew she didn’t want to ask what happened on the third level. Knew she realized that it wasn’t something she wanted to know. Or hear. But her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to remain ignorant. And because Nick couldn’t allow her to remain unaware of what could happen to her if she lost at the gaming tables, he intended to tell her every disgusting detail.

  He waited. He didn’t want to force the information on her. But wanted her to ask. Wanted to wait until she was ready to hear what he had to tell her.

  “What happens on the third level?” she finally asked.

  “For the females, there are auctions.”

  Nick gave her time for his single word to register with her.

  “What kind of…auctions?” she asked.

  Her voice was soft, her words tentative, as if she already knew what kind of auctions he was talking about, but didn’t want her assumption confirmed. Nick couldn’t blunt the dangers she took every time she walked through the door of The Dove. He couldn’t allow her to think there were no consequences to her actions.

  “Auctions in which they can sell their bodies to cover their debts.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Winnie swallowed hard as the repulsiveness of Nick Stillman’s answer settled. Surely he didn’t mean that women of the ton allowed themselves to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Surely he didn’t mean The Dove was little more than a high class—the highest class—bordello?

  No, she couldn’t allow herself to believe him. Surely he was only trying to frighten her. But what if he wasn’t?

  “How do you know this?” she asked. “Maybe these are just rumors—”

  “They’re not,” he said, his voice tinged with anger. “The women who lose at the tables are given twenty-four hours to cover their bets. Or, they can go to the third level and agree to be auctioned off for the night.”

  “Surely when one faces…” Winnie struggled to say the word. “…prostituting themselves, they find the courage to admit what they’ve done in order to get the money?”

  “Would you? Would you go to your father for the money, knowing he would demand to know why you needed it?”

  She lowered her gaze. She couldn’t answer his question. Of course she wouldn’t. But her situation was different. She would never be forced to go to her father because she had no intention of ever losing enough to be in that situation.

  “I see you would not,” he said in response to her reaction. “Most of the women who come here feel the same. They will accept any punishment rather than face their spouses with the amount they’ve gambled and lost.”

  Winnie tried not to think that some of the women losing large amounts at the tables would then be forced to let a stranger buy them for the night. It was beyond her comprehension to believe anyone would willingly give themselves to a stranger, just to cover a gambling debt.

  Nick Stillman laughed. “And then there are those who come with the goal of intentionally losing vast amounts. More than a few of the women do just that. Their goal is to have a physical experience with someone other than their husbands. And The Dove provides the perfect venue for them to do exactly that without anyone knowing who they are.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Winnie said. She couldn’t believe it. Sexual relationships outside of marriage was something she knew happened, but not at this level.

  “Believe it, my lady. Society is filled with men and women whose spouses are either unable to satisfy their mates, or refuse to do so. The Dove provides a service for anyone who wants a physical experience sans any emotional attachments.”

  “But surely not everyone who goes to The Dove has that in mind.”

  “No, not everyone. There are those like yourself who have no intention of losing more than they can pay. But when they do, they’re left with a very difficult choice. A choice that some of them cannot live with.”

  “What about the men who lose? Surely they’re not subjected to the same penalty.”

  “No, they get to meet Ellsworth in the box.”

  “The box?”

  “Yes. Have you noticed the whip Ellsworth carries with him?”

  Winnie didn’t answer. Everyone commented on the whip Ellsworth had hanging at his waist. She’d even seen him use it on occasion on an unruly gambler. But she didn’t know it was used for anything else.

  “A gambler who cannot pay his debts is given ten lashes in the box. Wagers are placed on anything from how many of those lashes actually make contact, to whether or not Ellsworth is able to draw blood.”

  “That’s horrible,” Winnie said.

  “Horrible or not, it’s the price the players pay for an evening’s entertainment. A price that is sometimes impossible for a female to live with.”

  Winnie heard Nick Stillman release a painful sigh and wondered if that sigh had any significance. If there was someone attached to the regret she heard when he released such a heavy breath.

  “This is why you cannot afford to lose at the tables. Unless you’re willing to go to your father and ask him to cover your debts. Or submit to a stranger’s touch.”

  Winnie couldn’t hold his gaze. She turned her head and looked out the darkened window. She could never go to her father to ask for money to cover gambling debts. Her father would never believe that she
was so addicted to gambling that she’d risk going to an establishment such as The Soiled Dove.

  It wouldn’t take him long at all to figure out she went because she needed the money she earned from gambling. And he would demand to know why she needed the money.

  That was one question Winnie could never allow her father to ponder. Just as she could never—never—give herself to a stranger. The thought was unbearable. It turned her stomach. She would rather die than submit her body to someone she didn’t know, and didn’t love.

  Winnie finally shifted her gaze back inside the carriage to where Nick Stillman watched her as if he was waiting for her to answer. When she didn’t speak, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to make that choice,” he said.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because the men who run The Soiled Dove are evil and corrupt. And because I’m going to destroy The Soiled Dove along with the men who run it, and I don’t want you there when I do it.”

  “If you know who runs The Dove and what they’re doing, why don’t you close them down now?”

  “Because there’s a third partner and I don’t know his identity.”

  “This is personal to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who was she?” Winnie asked.

  Nick Stillman leaned back against the squabs. “Someone young and innocent who couldn’t live with what the monsters who run The Dove forced her to do.”

  Winnie couldn’t find the words that would change Nick’s determination, because there weren’t any. There was no excuse for the innocent young lives The Dove had stolen. And if Winnie had discovered one trait concerning Nick Stillman, it was that he didn’t give up until he’d done what he’d set out to do.

  That was a face she should remember when it came to his determination to find her mother.

  Neither of them spoke for several long moments. The carriage continued to drive through the streets of London. From the sounds and the smell, Hodgekens had taken them away from The Soiled Dove and was circulating the more fashionable West End. He would no doubt continue to drive until either she or Nick Stillman issued the order to take her home.